That Time
by plutonia
Summary: An insight into THAT time of the month for women during married life. Kinda don't make sense, read to find out. My first fic, so give me some leverage. It's of a H/H pairing.


**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter belongs to me! And I'm swimming in a pool of money writing this with a US$1 million laptop. It so happens that I'm also dreaming. Muahahahahahaha. **Harry Potter and all its characters are created and copyrighted by J.K. Rowling, the talented genius. **I'm just borrowing them to create a little fun.  


* * *

_Ring ring!_

Harry Potter's eyes snapped opened.

_Ring ring!_

"Could whoever it is just hang up and save my sanity?" Harry groaned under his breath. He rolled over and poked his wife beside him. "Honey, could you get that, please?"

"No." Came the curt reply. Hermione Potter curled up into the ball on her side of the bed and ignored her husband.

_Ring ring!_

Harry sighed and groped for his glasses on the night table, reaching for the disturbing phone.

"Hello?" he croaked. A loud voice blasted out from the phone, causing Harry to roll over with shock and landing beside on his bed with a thump. 

"HELLO! HEY HARRY! THIS-IS-RON AND I AM ASKING WHETHER DO YOU AND HERMIONE WANT TO COME OUT FOR BREAKFAST!!!"

Harry held the phone away from his ear and grimaced. When he could no longer hear shouting, he gingerly replaced phone to his ear and barked, "Sometimes, I think you do it on purpose, Ron." He could practically see a grinning Ron on the other side of the fellytone, no, _telephone._

"Sorry, Harry. So, how about it?"

"Funny how you don't sound sorry." Harry grumbled. He covered the mouthpiece on the phone and called to Hermione. "Herms, you want to go for breakfast with Ron and the gang?"

A groan sounded from the curled-up Hermione. "I don't want to go anywhere, I just want to stay in bed all day and sleep, and let me be, leave me alone!" The covers were then pulled abruptly over her head. 

Harry frowned with confusion. It wasn't like Hermione to be this grouchy and unpleasant in the morning. An uneasy feeling formed in his stomach as he raised his eyes to the calendar on the wall. Today's date was circled in red. 

Which could only mean...Harry gulped. He spoke into the receiver. 

"She's not going to be very good company, Ron. It's..._that_ time of the month."

* * *

Harry tiptoed around softly, trying not to wake Hermione as he got dressed for work. He sighed as he quickly ran a brush over his dark hair, and straightened his crooked glasses. It looked like either stale bread or soggy cereal this morning. No sizzling bacon, fresh toast, fried eggs or creamy milk. No freshly brewed coffee either. No smiling wife standing by the stove and helping him to straighten his tie. 

Harry sighed again forlornly. No good morning kiss, and no good bye kiss. 

_I love my wife, _he thought mournfully as he got out cereal and milk, and a packet of instant coffee. _I love my wife, really I do, she's my best friend and closest confidante besides being the woman I love to pieces...but I just _hate_ it when it comes to _**that **_time of the month._

He sarcastically saluted the genius who came up with the idea of making women snappy and irritable for 7 days a month. It was going to be a week of torture for him. 

"Harrrryyyyyyyyyy..."

It was starting. He ran from the kitchen and up to the bedroom. "Yes, honey?"

"I feel like hell." Hermione was sitting up on the bed, holding the side of her head with one hand. "Get me some hot tea, please? And some painkillers, if you please."

Harry descended to the kitchen and fixed some hot tea for his wife, opening the medicine cabinet and retrieving the painkillers. _It's just 7 days, Harry old boy, it will be over before you know it..._

When he brought up the hot tea and painkillers, Hermione had changed out of her nightdress and into one of his T-shirts and faded baggy shorts, and resumed her position in bed.. "What took you so long?" she muttered in a grouchy tone as she consumed the painkillers. _Ahhhhh. That feels a whole lot better. _

She felt tired, had back-aches, stomach-cramps, headaches and every sort of "gift" that came with the menstruation cycle. _I hate this._ She eyed her husband walking in and out of the bedroom, as sprightly and cheerful as ever. _How come _**men**_ don't get it, but women does? This is so unfair. We have to put up with _**this**_ every month, and endure the pain when it comes to childbirth, became disgustingly fat, worked like a dog to maintain the figure and yet, they...they...the _**men**_ didn't have to go through all that. _

Harry came into the room with a plate of biscuits for Hermione. He set them down on the night table and brushed back her brown hair. "Feeling better, honey?"

"How would you like to be pregnant and have the kid? And become obnoxiously fat?" Hermione muttered, still thinking resentfully of the things _she_ had to suffer while Harry just breezed through life with nothing to worry about, didn't have to worry about pain and everything else that came with the responsibility of being a woman. 

_Me? Pregnant? Have the kid? _"Honey, that's not possible." He said, looking at his bundled-up wife. 

Hermione growled under her breath. She threw a pillow at Harry, which hit him full force on the face, causing his glasses to fall off. "Just go away, Harry...go away...go far, far away and leave me alone to my misery and pain."

Harry picked up his glasses and stepped back a little nervously. No telling what Hermione might do in her state of mood. There could be worse things than a pillow. Maybe she'd choose to throw the statuette that stood on her side of the night table, which was a wedding gift from Sirius. Suddenly, he had an idea. Maybe going out would make her feel better. There's no better medicine for a sick woman besides a day of shopping. 

"Hey, Herms? Why don't I take the day off from work, and go out with you? We could go visit Ron, or Ginny...maybe take a stroll through the park, or maybe we should spend the day outside, we could go shopping if you want to."

Hermione sat up again on her bed, her brown eyes blazing. She looked like as if Harry had announced that he was going to run off to Las Vegas with Draco Malfoy. _Uh-oh. I said the wrong thing. _He could almost see himself knocked out on the floor with the statuette on his face and a huge bump on his head. 

"You want people to see me in _this_ condition?" she wailed loudly, gesturing to her pasty face, stringy hair and baggy clothes. 

POW! Another pillow hit Harry on the face. Hermione dove under the covers. A long wail emitted from the covers. "JUST-GO-AWAY, HARRY!"

He should be thankful that it wasn't the statuette. "Okay, okay, I'm gone. I'll bring back dinner tonight, okay, Hermione?"

The week was seeming longer and longer and longer and longer and longer...ah, you get the point.  


* * *

When he came home that evening, Hermione was sitting on the couch, watching an old TV rerun. The grouchy expression hadn't left her face. 

Harry sighed. No coming home kiss. 

He should've taken up Ron's offer to come home with him. At least Ron was there to serve as protection. Should anything came flying towards him, he could always dragged Ron and used him as a shield. 

"I'm hunnnnnnnnnnngry." Hermione whined. She sniffed, something that meant I-know-I-am-being-bratty-but-you-have-to-bear-with-it-because-I-am-a-woman to Harry. Harry walked to the kitchen and unpacked the dinner he bought home. 

He handed a bowl to Hermione. "Salad." Hermione snatched the bowl and began eating, ignoring Harry and keeping her eyes fixed on the television. 

"My back hurts." she said suddenly. Ah, a cue to him. Give-me-a-massage-or-else. Harry gently massaged his wife's shoulders as she chomped on salad and continued watching television. 

"Bring in the laundry, Harry." she called weakly. The stomach cramps began again, and she felt nauseous. Resentment towards the unfairness towards females rose again. 

"And remember to do the dishes, do the laundry, and for goodness' sake, clean the kitchen, I don't want any rats or cockroaches in _my_ kitchen."

Harry stifled the long-suffering sigh. 

"And you sleep on the couch tonight!" Hermione yelled from the living room. "I needed comfort, or else I wouldn't be able to sleep."

_Just six more days, Harry._ He told himself as he started doing the dishes. _Just six more days of doing housework, tolerating a grouchy Herms, and sleeping on the couch, and you'll have Herms back to her normal self for another month.   


* * *

_

**_One week later..._**

He had already suffered a morning, and an afternoon of torture, seeing it was Saturday. She slept through the evening, giving him some peace for a change. It was already been 7 days, Hermione should be back to normal. He missed the normal Hermione. 

Even 10 Voldemorts didn't seemed as scary as Hermione during _**that time**_ of the month.

When he had changed into his pajamas, Hermione was already sitting in bed, reading a book. He approached her cautiously. "Can I have the bed tonight?" 

Hermione put down her book, and opened her arms. "Come here, Harry."

She hugged him gently. "Thanks for putting up with me for the last two days. But you _have_ to understand...it's all the part of living with a woman." she grinned. 

"Oh, no problem. I understand, honey. I will put up with you cos I love you. You know that, right?"

"I love you, too, Harry." She pulled him towards her and their lips met in a kiss, that started out gentle and softly, and growing more passionate.

Harry sighed contentedly, as he pulled Hermione closer to him. He had missed this...he practically wasn't allowed to _touch_ her during **_that time_** of the month, when she was in her scary phase. 

Their kisses grew more and more passionate and they both fell down onto the bed, still holding each other. Harry breathlessly broke off a kiss and nuzzled his wife's neck as she giggled. 

"You know," he murmured. "If you get pregnant, you wouldn't have to go through that torture for 9 months."

"I'll get morning sickness, be grouchy for 2 months, carrying a burden for 9 months and when the time comes, I'll have to go through horrible pain." she stated matter-of-factly. 

"Oh." said Harry. He reached for his wife again, but she sat up and threw Harry a pillow. 

"Huh?"

"Out. Couch."

"Herms..."

"I don't trust your raging testosterone."

"Yoy don't trust myy...WHAT?" Harry protested. "Oh, come on, Hermione..."

She looked at him, her lips twitching, before bursting out into laughter. She wrapped her arms around her disgruntled husband. 

"I supposed _one _night wouldn't do me too much harm. Besides, I'm safe." she grinned smugly. Harry just rolled his eyes, but returned his wife's embrace. 

"Accidents could happened, you know." He rested his hand on Hermione's tummy and smirked, before capturing her lips with his in a long kiss. 

When they came up for air, Hermione shook her head. "It couldn't happen. I'm positive."

"Wanna bet?" Harry said challengingly, as Hermione giggled. He hefted Hermione up in his arms and carried her over to the bed, in midst of her shrieks and giggles. 

And the room darkened. 

**The End**

* * *

A/N: Okay, so that was stupid. Muahahaahaha...it was my first fic after all. *grin* Do kindly leave a note telling me how I can improve. Please don't leave stuff like "H/H sucks", if you don't like this pairing, then don't read this story. Unreasonable and rude flames will be fed to Fluffy for consuming. 

Thanks so much for reading! Cheers!

**Note:** Technically, and according to theory, the above was one bet that Harry will definitely lose. Muahaahaha...


End file.
